Understanding
by seer247
Summary: A politically charged teenage activist with a zest for life named Clementine resurrects Prince Nuada ten years after the events of Hellboy II. Can he Understand human life without disregarding it in order to be the leader his people need? Furthermore, can Clementine understand the Prince's hatred in order to help him see the value in human life?
1. Chapter 1

I remember the first time I saw him on the news. A man, pale white as snow, positioned on top of a building, his golden hair laying on his shoulder. He was talking to Hellboy, it almost looked like he was trying to reason with him, his face showed empathy, whether it was toward hellboy or the monstrous creature he was fighting I couldn't decide. I could tell he was regal before the news reports came out, pinning him as the terrorist that was responsible for the New York tooth fairy and forest god attacks as well as the attempted global terrorist act of the awakening of the golden army. He looked the part of royalty, especially when the news started flashing that screen capture of him on the roof with the title card reading ELVEN PRINCE ATTEMPTS GLOBAL ATTACK. I remember my surprise when I realized he was the one behind it all, I almost thought he was the hero, he seemed the part to me, up there on the building trying to talk sense into the devil.

What followed his death was a great ordeal, people were outraged by Hellboy and the Prince both. Some people attacked fea folk and others attacked the government, there were debates that we should target the fea and others that we should try to live united with them. The vast majority of people wanted the fea community to be killed in order to eliminate further attacks like that of Prince Nuada and in the beginning they won. People started taking it upon themselves to seek out places where they might find fea and kill anyone suspicious or vandalize entrances to alleged communities. Against those people were those who called themselves HETFET (Humans for the ethical treatment of Fairies, Elves and Trolls.) They were the more peaceful side of action, holding protests and marches, trying to help the fae as much as they could. I was eight when it all happened so the impact of it all didn't really hit me. My mother and father, tho not together, both shared the opinion that the fea should be eliminated while even as a child I believed that we should leave them be.

Over the years people grew less sensitive on the subject, it was one of those things you would bring up when getting to know someone to determine if you wanted to be friends with them, like a political opinion. I formed my opinion on the subject at about age fourteen and began being open about it at sixteen. I'm the kind of girl that believes in equal rights for all and religiously routed for bernie sanders, I joined internet chat rooms and redits for HETFET at about sixteen as well. Around that time pretty much everything went to shit but i found closure in helping others so I became more involved in HETFET, becoming a member. In chat rooms and postings on Reddit, I found one central ideal amongst the HETFET community, the significance of prince nuada. Some believed that he was the fallen savor of the fea others believed he had damned them, in any case Prince nuada was the most controversial subject that came up. As for myself, I believed that the fea needed Prince Nuada now more than ever and that if his head was in the right place he would be able to do much for his people if it was explained to him how humans now thought. So at age eighteen, I started a page called HDRPN ( Humans Dedicated to the Restoration of Prince Nuada.) My following grew fast, though mostly Fangirls and internet bullies, I found quite a few people that shared my beliefs in Prince Nuada. Originally it was a page to keep his ideas in mind, a page to remind people of what he stood for and encourage them to step up for what he believed in, without the whole mass genocide thing. But later on a tangent of the page grew, people dedicated to actually wanting to bring Prince Nuada back to life. It started out as just a PM someone sent me but soon it grew and the idea didn't seem so crazy, not only to me but a small group of people including myself. We made a group chat and began to search for something, anything we could that would bring Prince nuada back to life. In the beginning, the search was feverous we all were seemingly obsessed but after a few months people started to leave, after half a year there were only three and then it was only me. It seemed that all had faded but I still had hope and subconsciously kept searching. I suppose I had always sort of thought it wasn't possible, just an uplifting thought or something puzzling to focus my mind on when things were bad, I never actually thought that one day I would find it.

As I read up on the method that i hoped would bring him back to life I thought back to when i first saw him on my TV almost ten years ago. What followed his exit was the death of the monster I now know as the last forest elemental, its death was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, the white petals and lush plants raining down around it with the ginormous flower at the top. It was then that I learned my first lesson in life that stuck with me through all my years, destruction births beauty.


	2. Chapter 2

The ritual, which I will not mention here due to the seriousness of it, I first found mention of in a subreddit of the occult. The question had been posed by a woman who had lost her boyfriend in a house fire a few months ago. Many people sympathized with her and sent their wishes but said that it simply could not be done and if it could be done it would be incredibly dangerous as well as illegal. At the bottom of the page, extremely downgraded was a link from a user called darkisth0ur777, the comment simply said "This" with a blue link next to it. Half fearing I would get some virus or see something terrible I clicked on it and held my breath for a second. The link took me to a page that was set up in a dark light, the banner across the top reading Leora Serpentinas ride to the dark side. The site looked very cryptic, if I wasn't familiar with that sort of thing it would have sent a shiver up my spine but if anything it was refreshing to me, there weren't any gothic letters in blood red or a set of woman's eyes peeking over the banner. It was just a dark webpage that was classically eerie. At the top there were three sections, Store, Books and Provisions. The link had taken me to the books tab to a black leather bound book with small yellow lettering scrawled on it that read: Advanced professional necromancy. Again I wasn't struck by the title, I had been a Wiccan for a few years and upon occasion I would look into the occult and even darker sides of magic. I had spoken to the dead a few times though, by means of seances, tarot and spirit boards, less for myself but those who wanted to speak with the dead. I wasn't concerned about going to hell, when I was sixteen I pretty much gave up on God. I never charged people to talk to dead, it seemed horrible to charge people for access to their loved ones. I could never talk to the dead myself, even though I certainly had someone to talk to, I suppose I always wanted to leave things where they had ended. For a few minutes i paused to think on the subject, did the Fea even want Prince Nuada back? Did Prince Nuada even want to come back? I remembered the murders I had seen on tv, the horrific attacks on the Fea people and then him, up there on the building the secret hero. He was a hero, I decided, in his own right. Surly his people wanted him back after all that had been done to him, maybe not to the extent of the golden army but they needed a leader, someone to stand up for them. I realized while looking at the book that there had to be many others that had thought about doing the same thing I was debating. Obviously whoever had thought about it had not followed through with it, if not me then who?

I quickly checked my bank balance and spent what little was left on the book taking in a breath when I pressed checkout. As soon as the payment had gone through I shut my laptop and vaulted off my bed, grabbing my phone and my work clothes off of the floor. As fast as I could I struggled into my work clothes, a pair of dark black pants and a light blue polo shirt with a green name tag that read Marlins Medicines and then my name in white bold lettering CLEMENTINE. Moving into my bathroom I flipped on the light and grunted at myself, I had done my makeup earlier but it had smeared a little and my shoulder length brown to blue hair was an absolute mess. I grabbed my hairbrush out of my brushes bucket on my sink island and a hair tie from one of the drawers, brushed it out in a hurry and tied it into a bun at the back of my head, making sure to let my bangs slink to the left side of my head. Looking at myself in the mirror I decided to do a quick touch up before work. I dashed back into my bedroom and grabbed my makeup bag, well it was more of a tool box, literally I put all of my makeup in a tool box with dividers. Flipping it open I grabbed for my go to powder and a stiff brush along with a red lipstick to top it all off and ran back into the bathroom. Quickly I patted on the powder to my patchy pale skin, covering what little I could see of my redness and freckles and blotting out the oily reflection that had started to form. After I was all caked up I cleaned up the black smudges of eyeliner around my almond shaped blue green eyes, I had already done a brown smokey eye and cat eyeliner earlier so I decided it was best to touch it up. When I decided it was all cleaned up I moved to my lips and painted the bright red onto my cupids bow, the most accentuated part of them and then moved on to the rest. The weren't very plumped but not flat either and not full but not exactly thin. I pressed my lips together and reviewed myself in the mirror patting down frizzier bits of hair, it looked to be all brown in the bun but the blue peeked out a little from behind it. My eyes popped their usual blue complimented by the makeup and accompanied by my full small arched dark brown brows, my bangs covered up just the corner of them. My mom always used to say I had the kind of nose movie stars paid for, it wasn't too big but not too small either, slightly upturned with a small slope. It was all drawn together by my bright red lips.

Smiling I winked at myself in the mirror and made a mwah with my lips while doing the gun symbol with my hand. "Kill em," I said to myself in the mirror, it was sort of a ritual I did when ever I went out, it kind of uplifted me, made me feel more confident in myself.

Grabbing my apartment keys and gray messenger purse I sprinted for the door " Liz I love you sweety I'll be back soon." Liz, my black cat looked up at me from my couch she gave me a short stair and then set her head back down, uninterested. Sighing I shut and locked the door to my studio apartment and began power walking down the hallway of my complex as to not disturb the neighbors. When I reached the exit I swung the door open and took the steps two at a time and then burst into a run at the bottom. The heat immediately enveloped me, the moisture made my clothes stick to my skin and I could feel beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead, I already knew that by the time I got to Marlins I'd be a pool of sweat.

Running as fast as I could I skipped down the sidewalk avoiding people narrowly. When I got to the corner I looked over my shoulder and saw my bus fast approaching from behind me. "Shit!" I whispered to myself in a high pitch. I picked up my speed, dashing down the sidewalk and shimmying past people walking who gave me disgruntled looks. Without a second to spare I landed on the curb in front of the bus stop, taking a step back to make sure I wasn't squished. The gigantic red white and blue mass transit bus pulled up in front of me and the doors flung open wide. "Morning Clementine." Maxwell the bus driver said and gave me a tired smile. " Morning Max," I said very bubbly as I climbed the stairs into the belly of the bus. I recognized a few people like going home from her night shift or Thomas the beggar that panhandled at different spots, but no one I would call a friend. I settled down next to a window and began to watch the city pass me by, bright pops of yellow, red and blue accompanied by the always constant red brown brick the city was mostly made of. Sighing I put in my earbuds and scrolled down to BORNS letting the band blast through my headphones.

I lived in a decent part of the city, there were robberies every once in awhile and you definitely didn't want to go out at night but it was home. I had moved out of my mom's house in Union Missouri as soon as I graduated high school, I sold my car and what furniture anyone wanted giving me enough money to move into my studio apartment. It was a cramped little building squished between two businesses, a normal brown brick slab with a black gate covered buzz in door.

My apartment was very small, the door opened with three locks to an outdated kitchen on your left and a small living room/bedroom ahead of you. I had a futon pushed up against the wall for when I had company over, a small black coffee table and then a dark black metal tv stand with a small flat screen tv and a PS4. My collection of many movies lie under it, some in boxes, some not and way too many to count. Next to the tv was one of my three bookshelves and the second across from it with the third being at the foot of my bed, which was pushed up against the farthest wall and the only window. Past the window was the fire escape that I grew a few hanging plants and flowers on. There was a small door for the bathroom between the first bookshelf and my bed with a shower, toilet, and sink. After the kitchen but before the first bookshelf was my small closet that was bursting with clothes and shoes. The entire apartment was an off white color with bright white trim, white ceilings, and tan brown carpet. It didn't have heating or air so I had to constantly have a fan running in the summer and had yet to deal with a winter. Though it doesn't sound like much and trust me it wasn't, with decorations I made it feel like home. My style was more eclectic, I had keepsakes and antiques anywhere they could fit and I drew for art work on the walls, along with what I could hand make. I always had an eye for the unusual so the apartment had many interesting features, my favorite the fake crystal chandelier I had hung up with a double sided tape hook. It was about $425 a month and working at Marlins full time paid the bills with almost nothing left but I was sure as hell happy and sure as hell free.

About fifteen minutes later the bus had arrived at my stop. The sights, smells and vibrant colors of the city had dissipated into the tans and golds of the shopping district that merged with the whites and blues of the hospital district. The rich all seemed to flow there together in that one area, sick and healthy both but all rich.

Marlins Medicines was at the right place at the right time when everything went boom, what used to be a small family run drugstore had turned into a two story sprawling pharmacy/general store. It drew a lot of customers in with it lower princes and charming look in the high-end district, as well as catering to the not so financially blessed patrons of the hospital and those who stayed in the hotels near by. The owner, Marlin used to manage the place but in an unfortunate series of events in February his wife passed away from cancer and his oldest child who helped run the place packed up his family, who also worked at the pharmacy and moved to Minnesota for some odd reason. With the option to close up shop or re staff he chose the latter and so I got my job, full time and all, within a few months I had moved to management status. We had hired a few part timers but I was the only full timer and on my off day's Marlin came in, it worked out nicely for all of us really. The best part of the job was by far the customers, I loved helping people and brightening their otherwise dark days, occasionally there was a rude person but I had more to be happy about than not.

I hopped off the bus giving max what change I had scraped up in my purse as a tip, something I did every day. "Thanks as always miss Clementine, I'll see you again at eight?"

"Eight!" I yelled back smiling over my shoulder before jogging to the locked doors of Marlins and unlocking them quickly with a flick from my key chain. No sooner had I unlocked it then my part timer for the day Anthony showed up.

" Still not married?" he said flashing his bright smile at me devilishly, his light mocha skin gleaming in the sunlight.

" Morning Anthony, and as always, no." I chuckled opening the door for him and snaking in after, moving to unlock the second door.

" So, I still have a chance than right?" He flashed me another smile and raised a dark eyebrow at me.

I replied with a shake of my head and an eye roll "I have to hand it to Anthony, you are one persistent little fucker."

"I try." he retorted laughing as we swung into the lobby and I set off the motion alarm. Moving to the office I punched in at eight o'clock sharp and began my twelve hour day.


	3. Chapter 3

It took about two weeks of anxious waiting for the package to arrive. When it was finally set to be delivered to me I made sure I had the day off, so no one would snatch the package from my door or it be taken back to the post office and left there until who knows when. It was a bigger package than I had imagined and quite a bit heavier too, the shipping material they had chosen was a plane black cardboard box, innocent enough but also underlyingly earie.

It made no sound when picking it up, just a heavy thunk when setting it down on my living room coffee table. I slumped myself down onto my thrifted purple futon that stuck out in all of the wrong places and grabbed my keys from the center of the table to cut open the box with, searching for the sharpest key I settled on the house key for my mom's house and began to cut. Liz let out a week meow and began to rub her cheek against the box, swishing her tail into my face.

" You know you could just not try to distract me all the time." I said to her in a disapproving tone before grabbing her and setting her down on the floor, I knew she would jump up again but at least I bought myself some time. She gave me a hurt look but seemingly forgave it, as she jumped right back onto the futon.

Feline distractions aside, I finally reached the inside of the box. Red protective paper confetti center around and on top of the book, bigger than I had imagined but for the most part the same. Grabbing it out of the packaging slowly, to savor the moment I felt a bright twing of hope. Maybe this would actually work, maybe it wasn't just some ad bot on reddit, it truly hit me then that if this book did have the answers to raising the dead I would be responsible for the return of the elf prince himself. In that moment I realized that I could be helping give salvation to a race or rather several races of creatures but I could also be dooming my own. To some it may have seemed that it was stupid for me to believe that I could talk some sense into him from the human point of view. To me there was hope, and even if there was no hope even if he killed me at least his people would have a leader again. My life, I had decided, was small change for races of creatures being killed every day that would eventually end in extinction. Flipping open the book i started with the table of contents where I found there would be a great deal of reading before actually getting to necromancy. Two hundred forty pages worth of reading to be exact and wanting to do this thing right i knew I had to read all of it.

"Well, Liz looks like we are staying in for the night."

She was completely oblivious to my words, as she was too busy rolling around in the box of paper confetti to notice me.

I woke up the next morning to a buzzing alarm , a ripe headache and two non designer bags under my eyes.. The sun was beating down hard from the fire escape window and a construction drill could be heard in the distance. Groaning I reached for my phone and tapped way harder than necessary to silence the alarm before letting it tumble out of my hand onto the floor with a dulled thump. I knew today would be another twelve hour day at work but I was not going to be my usual chipper self with only three hours of sleep, still it had to be done.

I rolled myself up groaning all the while and slumped into the kitchen to put on some coffee, seeing me move into the kitchen Liz started to meow her complaining meow and paw at my legs for her breakfast.

" I am not in the mood today Elizabeth," I whispered to her with heavy rasp in my voice.

Within minutes the coffee was done brewing, I filled my cup with half hot chocolate mix and half coffee before gulping it down and continuing onto another cup, it was feeling like a three cup kind of day. As the sleep began to clear from my head I remembered what I had read the night prior after all of the directions, the ritual was to be performed in two months, september, on full moon, preferably on a friday. The materials needed were easy enough to get with the exception of one, a lock of hair from the departed. I thought it was impossible in my sleep deprived and exhausted state the night prior but in the morning I saw hope.

Amelia Washington, a dear friend I had met over the internet lived in new york city and supported the cause. After the events of the attempted golden army attack she kept a close eye out for any fea roaming under the brooklyn bridge or sneaking up and down the sewer system. When she was eight her parents began to have what seemed like a rodent problem, food began to go missing and small holes began to form in the walls. Getting up for some water one night she heard a high pitch squeaking sort of sound coming from her cupboard. Expecting to find a mouse she threw open the cabinet door and found a small purplish fairy with one of its wings clamped tightly under a mousetrap. She freed the creature and through time befriended it working out a way of communication amongst themselves. She named her friend Trap and they have been friends ever since or at least last I knew.

If i could get Amelia to convince Trap to get to the troll market and thus to Prince Nuadas home perhaps it could recover a bit of hair from his belongings. Maybe all of his stuff had been put into a museum of sorts, maybe Trap and Amelia were no longer friends but it was a shot and it was all I had.

I resolved to email her later that night after I had done my time at work and continued on with my morning routine, blasting Blackbear in the background all the while.


End file.
